


i can fit two people under my skin

by sundaycat



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Edging, Extremely Dubious Consent, Kink Meme, M/M, Masturbation, Possession, Sharing a Body, Trans Elias Bouchard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:28:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27716794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sundaycat/pseuds/sundaycat
Summary: The thing in Elias’s head has been there for over a week now, and he’s starting to fear it’s not going to go away.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonah Magnus
Comments: 2
Kudos: 75
Collections: Rusty Kink





	i can fit two people under my skin

**Author's Note:**

> for the kink meme prompt: "Weird ask (maybe? maybe not, considering some of the things here), but I want some possession kink going on. Either Jonah newly-possessing Elias and getting used to his body, or maybe entirely different characters."

The thing in Elias’s head has been there for over a week now, and he’s starting to fear it’s not going to go away. 

He thinks of it as a thing in his head because that’s less terrifying than a more accurate description of the situation, which is that it’s not just in his head but in all of him, his whole body, and Elias is the one who’s been reduced to the voice in what may now be considered the imposter’s head and not his own by virtue of squatter’s rights. He knows it can hear him. When he thinks, it sometimes responds to him out loud, in his own voice, if they’re somewhere alone. It doesn’t go the other way, so Elias has no idea what the thing in his own head is thinking, which seems pretty unfair to him.

He knows it has something to do with James Wright’s sudden death. He doesn’t know if the thing _is_ Wright — its speech patterns sometimes sound so like something he would have said — or something that Elias…caught from him, maybe, like a body-snatching cold. He knows that whatever happened, it happened at Wright’s house between the two of them. He keeps trying to remember exactly what occurred there, but the events of that night are blurry and he’s still not sure if all of it was real.

Elias remembers that Wright had called him at home and asked him to come to his house, which had been very unusual. Wright’s been entrusting him with more important matters lately, but he’s never had any close personal relationship with him, and Elias has never seen him outside work hours, let alone been to his house. All Wright would say was that it was something important that he needed to discuss with him. So Elias went.

He remembers finding Wright in his living room, sitting in a big stupidly fancy chair, and he remembers asking what was going on and Wright getting very, very close to him. Did he go to Wright or did Wright come to him? This is the part where the memory starts to waver, going wobbly and slightly unreal at the edges.

What he knows, or what he thinks he knows, is that the air had felt very heavy. Elias had felt like there was something in the room, some presence, watching from the corners. He’d nervously asked Wright if he felt something, but he hadn’t answered, and Elias didn’t know if he’d even heard him, the way he was just looking at Elias so intently. Elias had been feeling very weak and strange, and now Wright’s hand was on his shoulder, and he’d tried to say something about how very weird this all was and he thought maybe it would be best for him to leave now, and the words hadn’t come out. He’d lifted his arm and not been sure whether it was voluntary, not remembering meaning to make the movement. All his muscles had gotten very strange, trying to move in one direction and then jerking suddenly in another without his permission. He’d tried to speak, said a bunch of things he didn’t think he meant to and didn’t know where they came from. The one thing he remembers coming out of his mouth is, _You’re going to be difficult, aren’t you?_

He doesn’t know exactly the point at which his memories pause, but when they resume, James Wright is dead and Elias no longer has control of his body.

He’s aware of the second fact right away, but he doesn’t know the first one for a little while. When he gets the call informing him of his employer’s death, his mouth reacts with a perfectly appropriate ratio of shock and condolences, but internally, Elias is freaking the hell out. Naturally, the first thing he thinks is, _oh my god, did I black out and murder my boss?_

He wonders if maybe he has just fucking lost it. Maybe this whole thing, being in his own head but out of the driver’s seat, is just what going crazy feels like. It doesn’t seem likely, but then again, Elias has never gone crazy before. If he was going to snap, he feels like he should have seen it coming a little more — he was maybe a bit stressed, but he didn’t think he was _that_ stressed. When people say things like _no one saw it coming _, he doesn’t think it generally includes the person doing the snapping in question.__

__“You’re not crazy,” says his own mouth after he hangs up the phone._ _

__It’s the first time it addresses him directly, and that Elias realizes that there is an entity other than himself taking up residence in his body. Their interactions over the next few days are limited and not very productive. On Elias’s part, it’s usually shouting inside his head or swearing at it. When the thing deigns to respond to him, it’s to chide him for being childish and distracting. Elias learns nothing, gains nothing, and changes nothing._ _

__Eventually, Elias quits his extended tantrum and instead tries to see if whether when he focuses really, really hard, he can maybe get through enough just to blink or move a pinky or something. (He can’t.) He goes at this for a whole day before giving up on it too. Having no real options for other things he can do about the situation, he starts trying to speak to the thing in his head again, more purposefully this time. He wonders, with a desperation seeping in, if maybe he can negotiate._ _

__He’s sitting on his bed after showering when he makes his first attempt at a real dialogue. The thing that has taken his body and taken his place in his life is neat: it folds his clothes, makes his bed. His bedroom looks cleaner than it has in ages. It makes his home seem strange and unwelcome._ _

__Elias takes the mental equivalent of a deep breath, and then thinks as clearly as he can, _What are you?__ _

__For a moment there’s no response. Then the words come out of his mouth: “Have you decided you’re going to be polite now?”_ _

__Elias isn’t going to respond to _that_ , but he asks again. _Who are you? What do you want from me?__ _

__“Who am I. What a facile question.” Elias feels himself lean back into the pillow. “My name used to be Jonah.”_ _

___Used to be?_ _ _

__“Well, it’s Elias, now,” it says, he says, Jonah says? “As for what I want from you, I already have it, so there’s no need for you to worry about that anymore.”_ _

__This is when Elias realizes, with a terrible sinking feeling, that he does not think he is getting himself back._ _

__“But you want to talk! How nice,” Jonah continues. “I knew you’d come around eventually.”_ _

___I don’t really want to talk, actually. I want you to stop — doing whatever it is that you’re doing, and I want my body back._ _ _

__“That’s not going to be possible, I’m afraid. But we can certainly have a little chat, if you’re feeling more agreeable now. You want to get to know me?”_ _

__Elias would sure like to know _something_ about what the hell is going on._ _

__“I’d like to get to know you, Elias. Well, I _do_ know you. Better than anyone else ever has. But we didn’t speak much while I was with my last host, did we?” His hand moves to rest on Elias’s stomach. He’s wearing the t-shirt and boxers that Elias sleeps in, and the movement brushes the shirt up just enough for two of his fingers to lay against his bare skin. “Perhaps we should get more properly acquainted. Do an ice-breaking exercise.”_ _

___What, like we both say a fun fact about ourselves? Okay, I’ll go first. I’m Elias, and I recently had my body hijacked by some kind of supernatural brain parasite, and I have been living in a state of constant confusion and fear ever since. How about you?_ _ _

__Jonah lets out a short laugh. Elias can feel the little exhale moving his stomach under his hand. “You’re a fun one, Elias. Much more interesting than the last. He was a practical choice, the best out of the ones I had available to me at the time, but a dreadful bore.”_ _

__The mention of his former boss nudges a disquieting realization into place for Elias, making something turn in his stomach. _What you’re doing to me, did you do the same thing to James Wright?_ he asks. _Was he…in there with you too? What happened to him after that night? How many people have you done this to?__ _

__He can feel Jonah smile. “Don’t worry about that,” he says. “Just worry about you and me.” His hand slips a little farther up Elias’s shirt to graze his abdomen._ _

__Elias is _extremely_ worried about Jonah and him, as a matter of fact. His attention is somewhat diverted from most of those worries at the moment, though, by the more pressing matter of how Jonah is now running his hand up to his chest, pushing his shirt up with it. _ _

___Is this what you consider getting to know me? Lying in my bed feeling me up?_ Elias thinks as Jonah strokes his chest, just barely grazing across one nipple._ _

__“It always takes me some time to get used to a new body. I find that this kind of thing helps me to get myself settled in.” He dances his fingers across the divot between Elias’s collarbones, then drags one finger slowly down the center of his chest, coming to a rest at his navel._ _

__Jonah has left his shirt rucked up. That little detail, the way most of his midriff is laid bare, is distracting enough that Elias doesn’t notice his hand has started moving again until he realizes it’s slipping under the waistband of his boxers._ _

__Elias would make some sort of sound at that if he had control of his mouth. He doesn’t get to find out what kind of sound it would be, because as things are, it happens in silence._ _

__His hand doesn’t immediately go where Elias expects it to. Instead, Jonah skims just briefly over the coarse patch of his curls, then off over his hips, down to the outside of his thigh. He squeezes softly there, his thumb sweeping over the top of his leg. His other hand comes up to Elias’s stomach again, and his fingertips feather over a point off the side of his abs. Somehow, even with his own hand, the lightness of the touch is unexpected to Elias, almost ticklish. He experiences the very strange sensation of a shiver that he feels in his mind, but that his muscles don’t carry out._ _

__The hand on his leg inches over the top of the muscle, down to the inside. Jonah drags it up his inner thigh and stops to stroke, just where the hair begins to grow thicker. Elias feels the fingernails of his other hand scrape gently against his stomach._ _

__Elias’s mind is strung tight with anticipation, but there’s no tension in his body as his hand climbs his thigh to brush his cunt. Jonah skims over his lips, then strokes his fingers through his folds._ _

__Elias is wet. He doesn’t know if that’s on Jonah’s part or on his own._ _

__Jonah lifts his hand to Elias’s mouth and pushes his fingers through his lips. Elias can just barely taste himself, a hint of salt and musk, wetness lost in wetness inside his mouth. He runs his tongue over the bottom of each finger. Opening his mouth again, Jonah strokes his fingers over the slippery swell of Elias’s bottom lip as he withdraws them. Then he pushes his boxers down his thighs and kicks them off._ _

__Jonah has seen Elias’s body naked before, in the shower or getting dressed. Elias has gotten used to that much, at this point; it’s only the same skin everyone else has under their clothes, and he’s gotten over being flustered about it. This is different. Even with his shirt still on, he feels stripped in a way he hasn’t before. He feels exposed. His body feels like an envelope someone’s slit open and dumped out the contents of to sort through._ _

__Elias’s hand returns between his legs. Jonah presses down into his cleft and spreads him apart._ _

__He slides one finger down over Elias’s clit, stopping to toy with his hood piercing. “That’s an interesting little accessory,” he says. “You know, I never looked close enough to notice it when I was scouting you out. It was a bit of a surprise to find it when I settled in. Not really my style, but I suppose it has its charm.”_ _

__He tugs lightly on the ring, and Elias feels the metal drag against the base of his clit. It draws something sharp up through him, a feeling so raw and sudden he isn’t sure if it’s pleasure or alarm, just that it’s something that would make his body jerk in response if it still could. His fingers uncurl to rub a circle around his clit, and that _does_ feel good. The way his hands move unpredictably is weird, but the response from his body is one he recognizes. He tries to absorb himself in the parts of the pleasure that he understands, let it cushion him from the parts that he doesn’t._ _

__“Does it feel strange?” says Jonah. “Maybe you’d like something to make this a little more familiar. We could run through some of the things you like to think about when you do this to yourself. Maybe one of the ones with Edward, from back in the library at work? I know that’s a favorite fantasy of yours.”_ _

__How — Elias has never mentioned _anything_ about Edward to anyone, let alone something suggesting that he likes to think about him like that. That’s something private that’s never left his head. There’s no way anyone could know about that._ _

__“Yes, I know the things you like to imagine,” says Jonah, stroking at the head of his clit, now beginning to swell unmistakably. “You like to think about him bending you over a desk and fucking you from behind. You like to imagine what it would feel like to have him come inside you, you like that an _awful_ lot, don’t you. You want to beg for it. Sometimes you want him to hold you down and squeeze your throat, and sometimes you want him to kiss your neck and tell you you’re a good boy.”_ _

__Elias has thought about these things plenty of times, let these scenes play out in his head and then dismissed them without a second thought. But hearing them actually said out loud, and in his own voice, no less — it makes it all sound embarrassing, filthy, wrong._ _

__“You thought about him like that so much, but you were always too shy to talk to him. Maybe I should have a chat with him, convince him to do some of those things you’ve always dreamed of. I wager he’d make time for the new head of the Institute.”_ _

__Elias feels a surge of panic at that, more fresh and urgent than expected. _No —_ he thinks, it wasn’t even a serious crush, he would never actually — it was just something to entertain himself, an idle fantasy to get off to, he was never going to _act_ on it —_ _

__“No? Just the two of us, then?” Jonah pushes against him a little too hard, almost painful, and then resumes his unhurried, light stroking. “As you like.”_ _

__Jonah rubs him slow and easy, a low smolder. The pleasure creeps up through him in degrees so slow he can’t help wanting more of it. Elias likes it quick and hard when he jerks off. He never touches himself like this. Left to his own devices, as soon as he wants more, he gives it to himself, and he’s not used to the feeling of a long simmer not allowed to boil. It has him flustered in a way that would probably be embarrassing if he could actually do anything to act on it._ _

__“Do you like this?” Jonah asks him. Elias doesn’t form the truth into words inside his head, but he knows Jonah knows it anyway. “I’m certainly enjoying it, I have to say. It’s really so thoroughly… _thrilling_ to find out what you feel like firsthand. Seeing it from a distance just isn’t the same.”_ _

__He’s never experienced anything like this. It’s touching his own body, it’s his own body being touched by himself, but it also feels sort of like having someone else’s hands on him. It doesn’t have the predictability of self-pleasure, where he already knows what he’s going to do and it’s the less exciting for it; now he’s in the dark about what his hands are doing next, and it makes every touch ripple with a shivering intensity. He’s aware of the little things he wouldn’t be if he was the one doing them — the hitching of his breath, the parting of his lips, the knitting together of his brows._ _

__Jonah has fallen into a nice, steady rhythm at his clit. He works his fingers across him in movements that remain just as even precise even as Elias feels like he’s starting to come apart. Elias wishes he could moan, but Jonah keeps his mouth resolutely closed. It’s been a slow heightening, but Elias can feel the weight of his orgasm building up, he can almost —_ _

__“Not yet, I don’t think,” says Jonah, pulling back from the spot where Elias needs it so badly. _Wait — wait, come on, that’s not fair,_ Elias thinks, but Jonah won’t let him have it, his fingers moving to play with the lips of his cunt instead._ _

__Even though he knows better by now, Elias makes one more futile attempt to focus on his hand hard enough to get it back onto his clit. It doesn’t move anywhere other than where Jonah wants it to, of course, and Jonah must be able to tell he’s trying, because he chuckles a little._ _

__When Elias has burned out his useless attempts at a struggle and resigned himself, Jonah finally inches the tips of his fingers back to stroke his clit again. The touches are moderate and controlled, but the relief is so good. Elias feels his whole cunt twitch and clutch at the stimulation. The warm bloom of pressure starts growing in him over again, and Elias leans into it, trying to hold onto it._ _

__He gets to the edge quicker the second time. Jonah rubs him with torturous restraint until it bubbles back to the surface. He’s so fucking _close_ , he can feel it swelling in him, pushing against the edges of him. It’s in his reach. He knows he could get there so easily if he just pressed a bit harder, but the touch at his clit doesn’t vary for a second. He’s caught there at the height of it, suspended, being dragged through it by inches and still getting nowhere._ _

__Elias is straining for it, but his teeth don’t grit and his thighs tense no more than they already were a minute ago. His hand moves with infuriating regularity. He’s tight and drawn, all of him focused at the promise of _almost-there_ at his cunt. Everything else is gone. His body is all he has now, and he doesn’t even have that. His limbs aren’t his and his breathing isn’t is and his pleasure isn’t his. There’s a cramp starting in his hand. It would be an annoyance, at any other time, but Elias realizes with an almost hysterical carelessness that it’s not his responsibility anymore._ _

__Jonah switches the rolling motion of his fingertips to short little taps at the base of his clit. It’s enough to send sparks through Elias with every contact, but it’s not enough to push him over the brink. Jonah gives him a good minute needling at him like that, then draws back entirely._ _

__Elias wishes he could yell, or squirm, or do _something_. Jonah kneads at his outer lips, but the sensation Elias gets from it is only the dim echo of what he needs. It’s not enough. Jonah continues to touch him dully until he cools again._ _

__When Elias has apparently waited enough, suffered enough, Jonah makes another taunting approach at his clit. His fingers stop right at the periphery, rubbing him just off-center of where he can feel his hardness, at the edge of where the pleasure’s strongest._ _

___Please, please,_ Elias begs inside his head. Jonah continues to skirt the boundary for another few moments, then slides those few holt centimeters to the epicenter of Elias’s need._ _

__The direct pressure is a sunburst of ecstasy. Jonah massages him thoroughly, without holding back. Elias can feel himself tipping over the edge, and this time Jonah lets him._ _

__He’s not really ready for how it feels when he starts to come, and come hard. Even in the helpless spasms of a normal orgasm, he can at least control which direction he bucks his hips, how much he arches his back, how loud he groans. Now he has nothing, a passenger in his own pleasure. He’s utterly dragged along in the riptide of it._ _

__Jonah has him moaning now. He’s loud, moving around a lot, and Elias doesn’t know how much of it is genuine from Jonah’s side, or if he’s playing it up for Elias, or if Elias would be this reactive if it were up to him. All he can do is feel himself twist and tense and feel the noises he makes as they come up from his throat._ _

__He has no idea when it’s going to end. Jonah doesn’t let up on his clit, and every peaking flare of sensitivity dips and then rolls directly into another one. He shudders through waves of it until finally his hand retreats from between his legs, and then he twitches once or twice more and it’s over._ _

__Elias wants to lie there collapsed and try to put his head back together, but it’s barely a few seconds before Jonah stands him up and begins getting him dressed again. Elias sits in the backseat of his own mind and barely pays attention to where they’re going as Jonah takes them to the bathroom to wash his hands._ _

__Jonah looks in the mirror. Elias wishes he wouldn’t. It’s a very strange kind of eye contact, making it only with himself, and at the same time with himself nowhere in there. It reminds him of the other thing he can’t explain — for some reason, now, his eyes are blue._ _

__Jonah smiles at him, or maybe just at himself. “There,” he says. “I do feel like I know you better know. What do you think?”_ _

__Elias doesn’t say anything in his head. He doesn’t know what his answer would be even to himself, let alone to Jonah, not that he can separate the two anymore._ _

__“Well, I consider that to have been a resounding success,” says Jonah. “I think we can make this arrangement work. Don’t you?”_ _


End file.
